“Confusing and scandalous” are the words a Catholic bishop in Worcester, Massachusetts used to describe the flags waving outside of a local catholic middle school. It was these flags that prompted the Bishop to strip the school of its’ Catholic identity, meaning it can no longer consider itself Catholic, celebrate mass or sacraments, be listed in the Diocesan Directory, fundraise with diocesan institutions, and can no longer allow the bishop to serve on the school's board of trustees.

The flags in question, that caused an entire religion to take action, are a Black Lives Matter flag, and an LGBT+ Pride flag.

The school began flying the oh-so-scandalous flags in January of 2021, in the hopes of making the community more “just and inclusive”. The church’s decision to remove the school's Catholic standing in an attempt to distance itself from these inclusion efforts speaks volumes about their true beliefs. By condemning the middle school’s flags, they are condemning the children the flags represent. 

They are condemning Black and LGBT people, something that seems to be a pillar of the church as much as anything — it is a condemnation I've experienced in a plethora of ways firsthand. 

My earliest memory of this type of jarring religious experience happened when I was 10 years old. My aunt told me I wasn’t really a Christian because I listened to Kanye West’s music. Her denouncement of my faith greatly confused and somewhat offended me.

My family went to church nearly every Sunday and hosted bible study on Wednesdays. My father pastored a church for years, a church my aunt and her family attended! If none of that made me a Christian, I knew there was nothing else that could. I didn’t understand the correlation she was attempting to tie between the music I’d grown up on and the religion I’d grown up with t until I visited her all-white church. 

There in the children’s ministry, it was explained to me and a group of 20 or so kids via an educational video of poor production value, that listening to rap music was indeed a sin. 

A Black man adorned in baggy “street clothes”, a backward hat, and comically large gold necklaces carries a boombox speaker as he walks around “tempting” good Christians with so-called “secular” music. This character is supposed to represent the Devil. He and his sinful music were later banished by a powerful, white God. 

The crowd cheered as their white God banishes Black Satan back to hell. 

The video ends. 

We are served goldfish for snack. 

I remember this video so clearly because I knew the moment the Devil character appeared on screen, that was who my aunt thought I was. 

For as long as I can remember, my aunt and her family have lived in rural white neighborhoods in the suburbs of Georgia. Visiting them from inner-city Atlanta, and later from Brooklyn, always felt akin to stepping into an alternative universe - one where white people reach out to touch your hair without warning, and where white boys tell you you’re pretty but only when no one else is listening. Also, you’re never pretty enough to date. 

My aunt existed in an alternative universe that many Black Christians do - one where bigotry is not a sin, but rap music is. 

Yet the contention between the world of rap music and religion seems to be an extension of the contention between Black people and the version of God white people have constructed over hundreds of years -  a God that hates gay people, hates music where Black people can openly share their stories and hates women who want to right to make decisions about their own bodies.

A version of Christianity that champions bigotry and discrimination as a part of its moral code hardly seems to be a religion worth following. If the concept of spirituality and faith is built around achieving a level of internal peace by spreading the word of God, I doubt that telling hundreds of children that their identities exclude them from achieving this peace can be considered moral. 

Religion has been weaponized as a tool of oppression for as long as religion itself has existed. Spreading religious teachings served as the caveat for the infection of colonialism perpetrated by European nations across the world, resulting in decades of brutal enslavement and some of the most inhumane atrocities in human history. 

Recognizing and rejecting the modern ways in which religion continues to be equipped to oppress marginalized groups is essential to achieving and maintaining the inner peace all people deserve.

Kendi is currently a student at New York University and is the author of multiple award-winning poems, short stories, stage, and screenplays.

Contact: kendi@thenorthstar.com